I was born into a world of secret keeping. It still comes naturally for me. But I’ve learned that with secret keeping comes isolation, lack of trust, and paranoia. Writing my memoir was the beginning of breaking the cycle. It has not been easy. There have been consequences, as well as good things: I was able to write my last post about the death of my daughter. I never could have done that before.
I mostly kept my daughter a secret from others–as though she didn’t exist–ever since she became a teenager. I felt shame for the choices she made and that I couldn’t stop her or help her. I blamed myself and felt others would, too. I’ve since learned that when you share what has caused you the most pain, those are the things others will relate to. We all need to hear of the human experience at large. We find out we aren’t alone in our suffering.